


One Step In

by jusrecht



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7156826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jusrecht/pseuds/jusrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha and Tony have a talk. Post <i>Civil War</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Step In

**Author's Note:**

> Scribbled this after watching CW and completely forgot about it until today ^^; Anyway, better late than never.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

There are times, Natasha reflects, legs still poised upright on the wall, when she will be reminded, harshly and painfully, that Tony Stark is a clever son of a bitch in a million of ways.

 

This is one of those times.

 

He stands at her bedroom door, as if mindful, _respectful_ of her privacy, her authority in her own domain—as if he didn’t own the whole fucking building. As if it would matter in the slightest, this show of deference.

 

Except it does, coming from him, the king of every room he walks into, and Natasha hates him for that, as much as she hates him for giving voice to his apology first, while she has agonised over hers for _days_.

 

“You bastard.”

 

He almost smirks. He knows that he has beaten her, alright. It almost makes her feel weirdly proud.

 

She lowers her feet from the wall. He invites himself in. She folds her legs in the middle of the bed. He claims an empty chair. To this day, he’s still her most perfect dance partner and this is why.

 

“I wanted to hurt you,” he tells her, honest and straightforward and looking so properly contrite that Natasha’s fingers itch.

 

She scoffs instead. “Of course you did. I _hurt_ you.”

 

“Yes.” The admission is a surprise, but he maintains his gaze, unwavering. “And I admit I was wrong in this particular case and you were right. However, I still stand by my opinion. We can't continue being loose cannons.”

 

Natasha is silent for a moment. “I know,” she says at last. “And this might come as a surprise to you but I don’t think you’re wrong.”

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Unexpected, but to be honest it doesn’t surprise me. You always use your head. That’s why you’re a first class spy.”

 

“But you’re wrong about Barnes.”

 

“We’re not going to talk about Barnes,” he declares, his voice hard and cold. “I will, however, concede that Rogers is right this one time.”

 

Natasha smiles thinly. “But he may be wrong another time?”

 

Unlike usual, Tony doesn’t rise to her challenge, doesn’t throw the mocking smile back at her face. “Rogers did what he did for his friend,” he says instead. “I didn’t see him complaining in any other mission that didn’t involve any special friend of his. In fact, he was quick enough to advise Wanda that casualties would and did happen, that it was part and parcel of the job and the only thing we could do was deal with it.”

 

“That’s unfair,” she retorts. “Won’t you do the same for your friends?”

 

“This is precisely my point.” He leans closer to the bed, toward her. “What right do we have to decide who deserves saving and who doesn’t?”

 

“The kind of impartiality you’re talking about is impossible,” she tells him, her voice rising. “A mother will always choose her children over everyone else. A friend will choose a friend. We all will invariably choose our loved ones to save and protect, if we have to choose at all. We are humans. Why must we be held to a different standard?”

 

“Because we _are_ different,” he declares matter-of-factly. “Look, I understand where Rogers came from, but we shouldn’t trust our sole judgment. We’ll make bad decisions, and these decisions will get people killed. We need, if not a leash, at least help.”

 

“I know,” she says, subdued for once.

 

His eyes nail hers. “I know you know. That’s why you stood with me.” A pause, then a smirk, sharp as sunlight. “At the beginning at least.”

 

Natasha feels an answering smirk on her lips. It catches her off guard, but she has learned to recognise forgiveness, especially when it warms her like this.

 

“Shut up, Stark.”

 

At least that’s a start.

 

_**End** _

 


End file.
